Careese Drabbles
by Devereauxpoi
Summary: A collection of brief moments, scenes and stories involving our favorite couple John Reese and Joss Carter.. Please check each specific chapter for the rating as they will vary. #CareeseIsEternal
1. Drill Sergeant

**A/N We all know John has a sweet tooth. It was bound to catch up with him! Thanks for reading!**

Joss quickly slipped into the passenger side of the black Lincoln that was idling at the curb. Pulling the door closed behind her, she silently handed the small brown package over to John. He opened the bag and removed its contents, nodding with a smile of approval. She had been able to procure the exact item he requested. Gripping it with his long agile fingers, he began to twist off the cap of the tiny tube, his eyes bright in anticipation. Emptying half the contents on his forefinger, he greedily smeared the gel over the tender gums of his upper mouth. A satisfied moan left his lips as the numbing effect took hold. He closed his eyes and relaxed back against the headrest, sliding the small yellow tube into his shirt pocket.

Joss didn't move or speak as she watched the spectacle unfold. A slight cock of her head, twitch of her lips and rise of her brows were the only indication of her amusement. She wondered to herself what sounds John Reese made in bed if the soothing Anbesol could illicit such a response.

This was the third time in two days that John had sped to the nearest pharmacy begging for her to run inside.

"Please, Joss, it's bad."

This had to end. John could handle the excruciating agony of torture or being sewn up in some back alley clinic, with no pain killer, yet he couldn't bear to face down a cavity.

"John, you have to go. This is getting ridiculous. You're acting worse than Taylor."

"Joss, you know I can't. They'll use a drill. A drill!"

"They'll give you a sedative and novocaine. You won't feel a thing or even know where you are. I'll ask Finch for a recommendation."

"Will you come with me?"

"Of course" she assured him, with a hmph under her breath.

* * *

><p>Joss had kept her promise. As she sat patiently next to him in the exam room, she watched him examine each and every tool meticulously. She imagined he could find much better uses for the shiny sharp objects that lay before him. As the doctor and nurse arrived, she let him clutch her hand until his incoherent mumbling had ceased and he'd fallen asleep in the chair.<p>

An hour later, Joss fumbled with the key to John's lock, finally swinging the wide door open and half-dragging his sluggish body inside. Her hand firmly around his waist and his arm draped loosely over her tiny frame, the effects of the Xanax had yet to wear off.

After a stumble into an armchair and a bruised shin from the coffee table, Joss somehow managed to navigate John to his large bed on the other side of the room. She pushed him forward to the mattress and he landed face down with a plop. Tugging off his suit jacket, she rolled him over and then gently removed his shoes. It took all her strength to heave him up to the pillow before pulling the comforter up to his chin. She left a bottle of water and his prescription Tylenol on the side table for when he'd wake up, which wouldn't be for a while if his snoring was any indication.

"Maybe now you'll learn to curb that sweet tooth" she whispered, softly placing a kiss on his forehead and turning to leave.

"I love you, Joss."

Maybe it was the medication talking, maybe she imagined those four little words. She didn't care, she'd take them anyway.

"Sweet dreams John."


	2. Memory Box

**A/N This is part of a larger one shot that I'm still working on. I'm not sure if I'll include it so I'm sharing it now. It might end up making a reappearance.**

John could hardly believe that, 3 months after Joss was laid to rest, here he was helping her unpack her boxed belongings. It was nothing short of a miracle, he mused, still amazed that once again death had been cheated.

Joss lifted up an old wooden box and smiled softly.

"What's in it?"

"Memories."

She dusted it off and carefully opened the lid. Slowly, she examined the contents and placed them one by one on her bed.

Her military dog tags.

Hair from Taylor's first haircut.

His first baby tooth.

Her gold wedding rings.

"Two of these belong to you."

John's bullet.

She handed him the tiny bullet. The bullet that he, not long ago, had credited Joss for it remaining unused.

"I don't need this anymore, Joss. Losing you was my closet call, not this piece of metal. You're the reminder that life is precious."

He placed it next to her other mementos.

The picture of John and Jessica.

John picked up the photo he hadn't seen in years, memories of another lifetime flashing through his mind. He looked at Joss quizzically, shocked to see it in her possession.

"I always meant to give it to you but it never seemed the right time. That day two years ago, when I went to New Rochelle with Donnelly and found it, was when I first began to understand you. What drives you and makes you tick. That photo was a constant reminder to me that you're the good man I always believed in. Validation for all the choices I've made."

"You're a brilliant detective so I can assume you figured out who I really am. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I was hoping that you'd get to a place where you'd want to tell me yourself. A place where you trusted me enough. I guess you never did get there."

He shook his head and grasped her hand.

"It's never been about trust, Joss. Not with you. It's always been about keeping you safe. Safe from me and the darkness that I carry. It follows me everywhere."

She placed her hand over his heart and blinked back hot tears. It had been only a few weeks since she had resurfaced from the dead and reclaimed her place in his life. His grief and mourning she had witnessed firsthand but she hadn't been prepared for the guilt that had wormed its way into his head. All the doubts and the self loathing had returned and his walls had started to once again rise. Joss stubbornly vowed that no matter how hard he pushed her away, she would keep shoving him right back.

"That man in the picture, that's the John I know. The only one I've ever known. That's the John that's inside here and that John is full of light. I won't stop fighting for you. I won't stop fighting for us. All those demons in your head that you battle, we're going to destroy them together."

"I don't need this picture either, Joss. It's a memory too and it belongs in that box."


	3. Homecoming

John quietly closed the front door behind him and secured the locks. Stepping into the foyer, he stopped before the mirror to assess the newly formed bruise on his cheekbone. The swelling had worsened and it was now a vibrant shade of bluish purple. His foolish assailant hadn't fared as well.

He knew Joss would scold his brazen behavior when she saw it in the morning sun. He had promised her he'd exercise more caution, abandon his carefree recklessness. Her addition to his life had brought with it new responsibilities and they had agreed together that his safety and the assurance of a tomorrow were now most important.

He removed his shoes and wearily made his way upstairs to the bedroom, making sure not to make a sound.

After working the latest number for two days straight, he had been anxious to return home. Life was different now because of her and his priorities had shifted; joys and accomplishments were measured by new standards.

Thoughts of holding her in his arms had occupied his mind on the long drive home. Her warmth, her scent, the softness of her skin as she cuddled against his chest. The way her eyes lit up when he smiled at her and he said her name.

At the top of the stairs he slowly turned the door handle on the left and padded across the carpet, careful not to wake her.

He smiled tenderly at the small form snuggled securely in her blanket. Her loose brown curls, the familiar arched eye-brows and the sweet full lips, slightly parted in a deep sleep, filled him with life.

He had told himself he wouldn't wake her, would wait for the morning to see those big blue eyes, but he couldn't resist. He gently lifted her into his arms, carefully tucking her tiny head under his chin.

"Your mom would kill me if she knew."

She was wearing the pale pink pajamas he had picked out himself from the baby boutique the day they found out they were expecting a girl. After eighteen years of raising a rambunctious boy, Joss was now focused on ballerinas, ribbons and frilly dresses. At her insistence, everything in the room was pink, from the bedding to the paint color and her name hanging on the wall.

Annaliese Grace

He cradled her little bottom with one hand and gently caressed her back with the other, whispering sweet endearments in her ear.

He sat down in the rocking chair and inhaled the intoxicating smell of his brand new baby daughter. Lavender and baby powder mixed with the fresh scent of her newborn skin.

She curled her tiny hand around his pinky finger and he gently kissed her temple.

He rocked her back and forth, loving every sweet gurgle and whimper, thinking once again how fortunate he was to have the family he always dreamed of. Fortunate to have found Joss.

Before the door to the bedroom even creaked, the scent of jasmine wafted in. Joss leaned against the door frame, her arms crossed, staring at the shadowy figure in the chair.

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

She grinned as she crossed the room and leaned down to kiss his lips softly. John carefully moved the baby to his left shoulder and pulled Joss down on his lap.

"I missed my girls."

"We missed you too."

"Why don't we put her down before she wakes and I'll tuck you in?"

"Yes, and you can explain to me what the hell happened to your face."


	4. Summing It Up

One hundred nineteen.

No more.

No less.

She didn't need a calendar to calculate the months.

The weeks.

The days.

She could even narrow it down to hours and minutes if she wanted.

Joss Carter knew with certainty exactly how long it had been since John Reese vanished into the night and out of her life. He was physically gone but his overwhelming presence and influence remained palpable.

One hundred nineteen nights.

Nights often filled with tears, anger, and sorrow over all the horrible possibilities, the unspeakable outcomes.

Heartache over the feelings she had always been too scared to share, too stubborn to accept.

Disappointment at denying her heart what it had hungered for so long, the craving so painfully strong.

Regret that she had allowed the man she loved like no other to walk away without knowing the truth.

Fear that she'd never get the chance to let him know.

One hundred nineteen days.

Days filled with moments of belief, promise and hope that the new dawn would bring with it answers and relief.

Optimism that she was one day closer to the nightmare being over.

Anticipation that every phone ring, door knock and chime of an arriving email or text might be him.

Faith that he would keep his promise to stay safe and return to her when he could.

Eagerness to wrap him in her arms and smother him with love.

Her eyes never stopped scanning, searching in vain every crowd, every shadow. The city she had always loved became her purgatory. Its streets, teeming with men in dark suits, bore a cruel reminder of her suffering. A day hadn't passed without her mistakenly thinking she'd spotted him, finally found him. Her heart would leap but in the blink of an eye that sickening feeling would return again.

Dread.


	5. Love Locked

**A/N** This is based off the prompt "Reese can't say the words I love you so how will he tell Carter he loves her."

* * *

><p>Joss wrapped both her legs tighter around John, pulling him blissfully deeper, as he continued to torture her with his slow drawn-out strokes. Burying his face in her neck, he moaned as she dug her heels in his sides urging him on. She clenched her insides around him and his thrusts grew hurried and insistent, taking them both careening over the edge.<p>

"Joss."

His whispered incantation caressed her ear and he stiffened, spilling himself inside her.

She quickly followed his lead, shuddering as one orgasm after another rocked her body.

John collapsed on top of her, both of them panting, their bodies languid, spent.

Her head lolled against his on the pillow and her eyes fluttered closed. She smiled, savoring the feel, the scent, the taste of him.

"I love you" she absentmindedly murmured into his hair.

The moment the words escaped her lips she felt his muscles tense and could sense the shift in the air.

Rising up on his elbow, he cupped her cheek and kissed her deeply, passionately, fully.

He rolled her onto his chest and bundled her in his strong arms.

Joss knew that he loved her, that doubt never crossed her mind for a second, and she understood why vocalizing his feelings didn't come easy. She had promised herself she wouldn't press the matter because in typical John Reese style he always found his own unique way to show her.

The perfectly prepared cups of coffee that appeared mysteriously on her desk.

The cold winter nights when he'd lie on her side of the bed to warm it up when she worked late.

His innate ability to sense when she had a bad day and the loving way he'd hold her, clearing her mind and restoring her back to life.

Everyday he filled her world with love.

However, there was a part of her that wanted to hear it.

Needed to hear it.

Needed it to be out there, tangible and official.

* * *

><p>At John's request, Joss met him that evening at the Brooklyn Bridge. Their hands entwined, they ambled across in comfortable silence, the hot July sun now a large ball descending on the horizon.<p>

As they reached the half way point of the span, the long stretch of lovers padlocks attached to the steel railing came into view.

Joss shook her head as she paused and surveyed the colorful mix of shiny metal.

"It's illegal to vandalize city property. A misdemeanor. Can land you in jail for up to a year."

"Where's your sense of romance, Joss?"

John reached into his pocket and pulled out a heart shaped lock. Swinging it on his finger, he smirked as Joss watched in bemusement.

She knelt down next to him as he found an available spot and clipped it on. Taking the lock in her hand she ran her thumb over the engraving.

**_JR+JC_**

Turning it over, her breath hitched when she read the message.

_**Our hearts are locked together forever. I love you.**  
><em>

He opened his palm and produced a small brass key.

Joss reached out her trembling hand and grasped the key tightly, her eyes filling with tears.

She pulled John's face forward and kissed him fervently, oblivious to the crowds passing by. Planting another quick kiss on the key she stood up and hurled it off the bridge and into the East River.

John pulled her back against him and kissed the top of her head.

"Why am I always doing something illegal with you, John?" she laughed.

"Maybe I like giving you reasons to put me in handcuffs, Detective?"


	6. Cleansing Hands

Joss's bed dipped sharply from John's weight and she stirred in her sleep, her bleary eyes slowly opening and seeking out the alarm clock. She wasn't expecting him to return to her apartment that night when he left abruptly after a call from Finch.

She had to be at the precinct early and, despite her objections, he had insisted he go back to the loft so as not to disturb her. Joss was surprised he changed his mind but was happily content and relieved nonetheless.

She rolled over and threw her arm around his waist, snuggling tight against his chest.

He immediately winced at her touch and attempted to muffle a deep gasp.

She quickly leaned over and turned on the lamp, groaning at the sight of John's face. A nasty welt began at his temple and continued down his cheekbone. She spotted his hands, his knuckles red and raw.

Tenderly she lifted his undershirt to survey the rest of the damage. His entire torso was battered and bruised, the worst of it running up the right side of his rib cage.

"It's not so bad." His voice was ragged and weary.

Joss could only shake her head and sigh.

"I'll be right back."

She entered the adjoining bathroom and began to run him a hot bath. Returning to the bed, she helped John to his feet and eased him out of his t-shirt and underwear.

She lead him to the tub and knew he was hurting bad when he didn't reject her hand as he sunk into the steaming water.

Joss placed a rolled towel behind his neck and he reclined, closing his heavy eyes. She squeezed some gel on a clean wash cloth and ran it gently across his chest. He flinched at the sensation but nodded for her to continue.

Discarding the cloth, she soaped her hands up instead and gingerly caressed his shoulders and neck.

As she lovingly stroked the contours of his tender skin, tears began to well in her eyes. She wished that she could take away his pain, convince him once and for all that he deserved more from life.

He would never admit it, never form the words, but she knew this was his personal punishment. His self imposed path to redemption.

The tears now rolled freely down her cheeks. She cried for the pain of his past lives and for the inevitable pain of the future. She cried for the man who refused to see the good in the mirror no matter how many times she pointed it out.

With every soft swipe of her hand she tried to wash it away. Make him new, clean, decontaminated. Innocent again. But deep down she knew that it was part of him, a piece of the man she loved, and it was what made him who he was today.

His wet hand reached up and he raised her chin, aligning their eyes.

"I'm sorry" he whispered. "I shouldn't have come here."

Joss shook her head vehemently.

"Promise me, John, that you'll always come here. Always."

When the water began to cool, Joss helped him out and carefully toweled him dry. She settled him in her bed, wrapping his ribs with an ice pack and covering him with a thick blanket. She lay on his good side and he tugged her close.

Cupping her cheek, he placed a warm kiss on each of her eyelids and rested his head on hers.

"I'll always come to you, Joss. I promise."


End file.
